The State, the girl, The Goth
by ginger-sheepXD
Summary: heart-shaped box from Georgia's POV. rated M for lemon in later chapters.


The State, the Girl, the Goth

Georgia had been taken by the gruff persona of Judas Coyne for years before she met him. She had familiarised herself with his husky voice as she grew with it through her teenage years with his music as company. She leaned in to the seductiveness of his songs and a small lust began to build for him in her late adolescence.

Before she was Georgia she was Morphine the stripper and before that she was the pale skinned, feeble Marybeth. Her birth name disgusted her, much as she disgusted her family as her fascination grew and she became deeper involved in the gothic lifestyle. Marybeth had loved Judas Coyne since she was at least fifteen, the soft aggression he emitted through his songs captivated her. She had travelled across state to see him play, been to a total of six of his live shows and even touched his had and he breezed past the crowd while exiting through a dingy back door. As she was glued to her painfully slow computer she saw an advert pop up for yet another one of Jude's Hammer concerts in Georgia. She scrolled down for detail and her heart jumped, sending her nerves in a momentary frenzy. Back stage - meet/greet tickets $60. Marybeth jumped up, scrambling over her small bed and began routing around between her mattress and the wooden slats of her weak bed frame. She swept her hand back and forth until the cool touch of paper greeted her finger tips. She wrenched it out and through it on her bed. She scampered over to her battered veteran of a CD player and shoved on one of Jude's hammer's older CDs. The thick and heavy bass boomed from the start, closely followed by the rhythmic thud of the drums as they were pounded at one hundred and eighty beats per minute.

She sprang onto the bed and gathered up the money she had set aside. She slowly counted… she had fifty dollars. She was only ten dollars short, she was sure she could fins some way of coming up with the money… Wandering to the door, she opened in a crack to listen for Bammy. Creeping along the dark hallway she arrived at the pitiful sight of her grandmother, spread-eagled over the kitchen table in a peaceful sleep. Heading for her purse, Marybeth reassured herself that she would pay it back. She wasn't stealing. She slipped a ten dollar bill from the small wad that filled the soft leather purse and carefully slipped the bag back into place. She raced upstairs again, flying down the hallway and almost careering into the door of her room. Marybeth hurriedly slipped on a large black jumper over her petite frame and fiddled with her tired, worn out sneakers. She grabbed the money and shoved in into her wallet which was then placed into the tight front pocket of her jeans. She grabbed her keys from the dish beside her fish bowl she scampered down stairs and rounded the hall to the front door. She stopped and thought that she should probably tell Bammy where she was going so she trotted back into the kitchen and lightly nudged her.

"Bammy, I'm going across town, need to buy some tickets, kay?" Marybeth cooed in her grandmother's ear.

"Yes child, just be sure you pay me my ten dollars back later…"

Dammit, she knew. How the hell did she always know? She brushed it off however as she slammed the door behind her, making the wind chimes dance and sing and she left. She grabbed her bike from the end of the yard and cycled furiously down to the local box office. The guy that worked there, Jacob, knew her by sight as she was there every other month buying tickets to obscure gigs. He had taken a shine to her; he enjoyed the paleness of her skin against the harsh black of her hair. He tried to hold back a ticket for her if he saw something he thought she would be interested in. So when she came rolling in with her sexy smile crossing her lips and the cheerful glint in his eye she casually opened the drawer under the desk and slipped the ticket out.

"Let me guess, Jude's hammer, meet n' greet ticket?" He grinned and waved the ticket at her.

"Oh Jake, how did you know!" She feigned fake surprise and fell into a soft fit of giggles.

"Here. Sixty dollars now hand me my ticket, I can die happy if I can say I have been in the same room and had a conversation with Judas Coyne." She reached out her had to take the ticket but he pulled it away just as her fingers brushed it.

"You are eighteen, aint'cha? You gotta be eighteen to get in and it's ID at the door." He stared down at her inquisitively. She looked shiftily around before deciding to tell him the truth.

"Right, well here's the thing right… I'm not eighteen for another month yet, BUT I will be by time the concert comes around. I know your not technically allowed to sell me it but well…PLEASEEEEEEE!" She shot him the puppy dog eyes combined with the pouted lip and hands clasped together in front of her chest.

"I will make you a deal, I will buy you ticket if… you go out to dinner with me." He looked down at her expectantly.

"Deal!" She wasn't bothered about the date; she had been with other men that would give her gifts for a little something from her in return. She didn't care.

"Thank you!" She said genuinely grateful as he slipped the ticket and her money back over to her. She turned to leave but he called out to her before she reached the door.

"Eh… What's your name?" He said with slight confusion in his voice.

"Ma… Whatever you want it to be." she winked at him before turning back round and slipping through the door into the hot Georgian sunlight.

She remembered that concert bitterly. She had wondered up to the table where Jude and the band had sat, all looking either bored or horny. She had got their signatures but she had been ushered on by a colossal brute of a body guard before she could even utter a hello to Jude. She had looked back it him, catching his eye as she left the cramped room and he shot a mischievous smile and winked at her. She remembered the shiver that went down her spine as he winked which made the night worth it.

Going by the name of morphine now, she was dancing in a strip club in New York. She was twenty three and had left home a couple of days after her twenty first birthday. Her grandmother had wished her well and slipped a wad is crisp notes into her had as she watched her walk out the door. Marybeth remembered saying goodbye to her then-boyfriend Jacob. She had been seeing him on and off since that first date after he slipped her the ticket. She had been fond of him but she confessed to never really loving him. He had smiled as a tear glistened in his eye and gave her a long hug before she got on the train. She had promised to come back and see him, so far she never had. She didn't actually know what she left for; she just had the itch to leave. She had hopped off the train and headed for the nearest travel inn. She had paid for a room then left to get wasted out her face. She had ended up poll dancing for a seedy group of men in a grotty little bar. A man had then asked if she had done that before, thinking he wanted to sleep with her she was reluctant to make conversation. He explained that he owned a strip bar and he was always looking for new girls to dance. He told her she was perfect for it as she looked so different, like she was into kink. The men liked that. He was sick of hiring stupid blondes that would get naked for free, He wanted her and he offered a good price. She smiled her dirty little smile and accepted. She had been working there for at least two years now. She would wear a black lace strap that wrapped round, trailing round her shoulders and covering her nipples and a matching black G-string. She would dance with a blade, swinging it and tossing it in the air until catching it and unhooking the strap on her front with it. She would be left to dance with her breasts on show until her song finished. She hated all the eyes on her. Even after two years of it she still detested being one of those girls. The only way she could escape it was to get lost in the music. They had a mix tape that consisted of AC/DC, Jude's hammer, Motley crew and Black Sabbath, which she would sing to herself. She would pretend she was dancing to the songs of her youth with a hairbrush in hand, still back in her small little colonial home with Bammy. She stepped out onto the glass runway and paraded down to the men sat and the bottom. She started to dance, staring intently at the knife until she got into her stride. She surveyed the audience with a seductive glaze over her eyes and winked at the man sitting directly in front of her. It took her the amount of time it took to launch the knife into the air and spin gracefully to realised she was dancing for Judas Coyne. Her heart skipped as she realised she actually had to try and be sexy… She started to toss her hair and gyrated her hips violently, all the while singing along.

"It's animal  
Livin' in a human zoo  
Animal  
The shit that they toss to you" She mouthed slightly as she started into his eyes. She knew she turned him on; he was always after the Goth girls. She had wanted most of her life to be one of Jude's Goth girls. The Song ended, and she bent down and wink directly at Jude, she show him move slightly, hopefully with excitement and then she span round and walked back down the run way, Bouncing her hips from side to side and she went. She had just danced for Judas Coyne, slightly star struck she sat down in her dressing room seeing his face on the back of her eyelids. She began to get dressed; she slipped into her tight black leather pants on, and topped it of with an inappropriately low-cut tank top. There was an authoritative knock on her door which she lazily answered after a few seconds. Her eyes bulged slightly at the slight of Judas Coyne within touching distance of her.

"Good day ma'am." Jude said in a respectful yet teasing tone.

"Mr. Coyne, what can I do for you?"

"You could tell me your name, Miss…?" Jude smiled at her expectantly. Marybeth thought about it for a second before moving aside and letting him into her dressing room. He sat down of the threadbare couch and reiterated his question.

"It'll cost ya'." She said in her country twang. Her accent was sexy; he always enjoyed girls with a southern accent.

"How much?"

"A hundred…" Marybeth was being cheeky. She knew he could walk out and she would never speak to him again in her life but pushing him felt right.

He slipped his wallet from his back pocket and flipped a couple of bills her way.

"I dance as morphine, I was born as Marybeth." she said with a tinge of embarrassment.

"Cute name kid. Come for a drink with me? Or is that gon'na cost me too?"

She grabbed her coat and grabbed his arm. "Where too?" She asked with a naughtiness glistening in her eyes.

They bar hopped, laughing a drinking until they were both at least tipsy.

"So Marybeth, can I have your number?" She grinned at this and held out her hand. He let out a hoarse laugh and forked out another few bills. She took his hand and drew a pen from her bag and scribbled it on his palm. They were standing in the tube station when the rush of wind signalling the approach of her train. Marybeth glanced at her feet then grabbed his face pulling him into a deep kiss that made him shudder. She let go of him and ran to the train, she watched out the grimy window at his confused and satisfied face.

She unlocked the door to her tiny little flat in the Bronx. Locking it again behind her she flipped the lights on and set about making food from the meagre supplies in her kitchen. Not five minutes after she had got into the flat, her phone started to flash and vibrate. She flipped it open, expecting it to be some ponce telling her to pay her bills or something. Instead it was the husky voice of Mr. Coyne.

"Hello ma'am. It's Jude, I know I should have called you earlier but I have been busy so I'm calling to ask you to dinner tomorrow, can you get off work?"

"Well Mr. Coyne, you have had me hanging on the phone for days now, I hope your very sorry about this, my whole life has been disrupted due to this." She let out a small fit of girly giggles that slightly turned Jude on.

"Where do you live miss? If your not too tired I will come visit your right now."

"Your very forward Mr. Coyne." She giggled again and told him her address.

"I will be there in about twenty minutes. Oh and… Call me Jude." She could almost hear the seduction in his voice as he hung up the phone.


End file.
